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should lay him i' the cold ground: My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies; good night, good night.

[Exit OPHELIA.

King. Follow her close: give her good watch, I

pray you.

[Exit HORATIO.

[A Noise without.

O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs

All from her father's death.

Enter MARCellus.

What is the matter?

Mar. Save yourself, my lord:

The young Laertes, in a riotous head,

O'erbears your officers: the rabble call him, lord;
They cry, Choose we, Laertes shall be king!

Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes shall be king, Laertes king! [A Noise without.
Laer. [Without.] Where is this King?-Sirs, stand
you all without.-

[blocks in formation]

Queen. Calmly, good Laertes.

[Exit MARCELLUS.

Laer. That drop of blood, that's calm, proclaims

me bastard;

Cries, cuckold, to my father; brands the harlot
Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow
Of my true mother.

King. What is the cause, Laertes,

That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?—

Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person;
There's such divinity doth hedge a king,

That treason can but peep to what it would.
Let him go, Gertrude.

Laer. Where's my father?
King. Dead.

Queen. But not by him.

King. Let him demand his fill.

Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with: To hell, allegiance!

To this point I stand,

That both the worlds I give to negligence,

Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd,
Most throughly for my father.

King. Who shall stay you?

Laer. My will, not all the world's:

And, for my means, I'll husband them so well,
They shall go far with little.

King. Good Laertes,

That I am guiltless of your father's death,
And am most sensible in grief for it,
It shall as level to your judgment 'pear,
As day does to your eye.

Hor. [Without.] O poor Ophelia !
King. Let her come in.

Enter OPHELIA, fantastically dressed with Straws and
Flowers.

Laer. O rose of May!

Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia !

O Heavens! is it possible, a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?

Oph. [Sings.] They bore him bare-fac'd on the bier;

And in his grave rain'd many a tear ;—

Fare you well, my dove

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade re

venge,

It could not move thus.

Oph. You must sing,

[Sings.] Down-a-down, an you call him a-down-a. O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his master's daughter.

Laer. This nothing's more than matter.

Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance ; 'pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines:— there's rue for you;-and here's some for me:-we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays:-you may wear your rue with a difference.-There's a daisy: I would give you some violets; but they wither'd all, when my father died:-They say, he made a good end,[Sings.] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,—

Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour, and to prettiness.

Oph. [Sings.] And will he not come again?

And will he not come again?

No, no, he is dead,

Go to thy death-bed,

He never will come again.

His beard was as white as snow,

All flaxen was his pole:

He is gone, he is gone,
And we cast away moan;

And peace be with his soul!

And with all christian souls! I pray Heaven.

[Exeunt OPHELIA and QUEEN.

King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right. Go but apart,

Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will,
And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me:
If by direct, or by collateral, hand

They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,
Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
To
you in satisfaction; but, if not,

Be you content to lend your patience to us,

And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.

Laer. Let this be so;

His means of death, his obscure funeral,

No trophy, sword, nor hatchment, o'er his bones,
No noble rite, nor formal ostentation,-

Cry, to be heard, as 'twere, from Heaven to earth,
That I must call❜t in question.

King. So you shall;

And, where the offence is, let the great axe fall.

SCENE V.

[Exeunt.

An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter HORATIO and FRANCISCO.

Hor. What are they, that would speak with me? Fran. Sailors, sir;

They say, they have letters for you.

Hor. Let them come in.

[Exit FRANCISCO.

I do not know from what part of the world

I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.

Enter two SAILORS.

1 Sail. Heaven bless you, sir. Hor. Let him bless thee too.

1 Sail. He shall, sir; an't please him. There's a letter for you, sir; it came from the embassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

HORATIO reads the Letter.

Horatio, when thou shalt have overlook'd this, give these fellows some means to the King; they have letters for him. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England; of them I have much to tell thee.-In my heart there was a kind of fighting, that would not let me sleep; up from my cabin, in the dark grop'd I to find out them; had my desire; finger'd their packet; and withdrew to my own room again, making so bold to unseal their grand commission; when I found, that, on the supervise, no leisure bated, no, not to stay the grinding of the axe, my head should be struck off. I sat me down, devis'd a new commission, that, on the view of these contents, the bearers should be put to sudden death. I had my father's signet in my purse, which was the model of that Danish seal; folded the writ up in the form of the other; gave it the impression; plac'd it safely, the changeling never known.-The next day, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase: Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compell'd valour, and in the grapple I boarded them: on the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy; but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them Let the King have the letters I have sent; and repair thou to me with as much haste, as thou wouldst Ay death. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Farewell.

He that thow knowest thine,

HAMLET.

Come, I will give you way for these your letters;
And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
To him, from whom you brought them. [Exeunt.

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